


Vamps

by SapphireSnapdragon69



Category: OC - Fandom, OCxOC - Fandom, OCxVampire, Shitty writing - Fandom, Vampires - Fandom, smut - Fandom
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Chains, Dungeon, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingering, Forced Orgasm, Fucking, German, Harems, Kidnapping, Master/Slave, Non-Consensual Bondage, Orgasm Control, Other, Sex, Sexual Fantasy, Sexual Slavery, Smut, Tails, Threesome, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vampire Sex, Vampires, flogger, pet kink, restrained, tied down, tied up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2019-05-05 03:16:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14608083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SapphireSnapdragon69/pseuds/SapphireSnapdragon69
Summary: “Desire is so often an urge to consume. The sound of sucking means few things, all of them hungry. It is no wonder, our obsession with vampires...We agree on this fantasy by the billion: devour us, leave us no choice but to surrender.”“Some kinds of pleasure are closer to pain than others. Under my mouth, my beloved squirms, hips rising, shoulder clenching, her body resisting and yielding at once. Think of the vampire: all measure and seduction until he tastes, all control loosed in the ravening.” -- Melissa Febos





	1. The Beginning

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: I’m very bad at not only writing in general, but I’m especially bad at writing German accents.
> 
> For all y’all thirsty people: skip to chapter 3

Bright beams cut through the inky night like a knife. The old, beaten car grumbled in resistance as it turned onto a road. A woman slightly bounced in the driver’s seat as the road’s potholes and bumps grew more frequent. It seemed, the farther north she traveled, the worse the roads got. Not enough people in this deserted land to fix them, she figured. She had been driving for hours--no, eternities, it seemed. She was running. No, not running from any specific person, but instead a concept. One which woke her up in a cold sweat each night. One which held her in a way that only true terror can. So, she drove. She planned on driving until she couldn’t any longer. Which, though the woman was unaware, was a time that was closer than expected.  
I need to stop for gas soon. I bet there isn’t a station for another twenty miles in this godforsaken place. She pulled onto yet another dusty, lonely road. In the distance shone a faint light, her only hope. Slowly, red and yellow lights distinguished themselves from the dark horizon. A gas station, she prayed. She watched as the black, ambiguous landscape rolled by. Trees and fields flitted by while she tried to focus on the horizon ahead. As the lights grew closer, a feeling of nervousness settled into her stomach. She tapped her hands along the steering wheel and fidgeted. Suddenly aware of the silence, she flipped on the radio.  
“News of kidnappings in the area have prompted--”  
She switched it off abruptly. Yea. No, that's not helping. Talk radio is the least comforting thing imaginable.  
The woman sighed as she pulled into the gas station parking lot. The driveshaft gave a squeak as she did. A man’s face popped up in a grimy window of the gas station, his curly brown hair unkempt and his uniform grimy in the fluorescent lights. When she sidled to the first pump, the man gave a friendly smile and wave. She stepped out into the cold, night air and looked to the window for the reassuring face. He had disappeared, causing a ripple of confusion and concern to roll through her. She calmed once she heard a male voice over the parking lot’s intercom system.  
“Um... hey. So sorry, but could you go to the second pump? That first one’s is on the fritz again. The repairman is coming in the morning. Umm...Thanks.”  
The woman nodded to the voice, slowly climbed back into her car, and drove to the next pump. She sat for a moment before getting out. Pay at the pump or go inside? That attendant seemed nice. And I guess I could buy some snacks. My purse. Where did I put it? She was so lost in thought that she didn’t see the black van silently pull up behind her. Or hear the slight swish of two trenchcoats. Adjusting her rumpled skirt, purse in hand, she walked in the glow of red and yellow lights. She stopped for a moment, admiring the contrast of the dark sky in the distance and the buzzing bulbs which illuminated the night. Then, there was no contrast; It was all black. She felt something covering her face and someone grabbing at her arms. Trying to wrestle herself free, she jerked around wildly. She screamed for the friendly gas station attendant. She tried to kick and thrash, but she only encountered strong hands and stronger grips. The hands deftly countered her every attempt. Her stomach dropped as she felt herself being lifted in the air. Oh my god. Am I being flung over someone's shoulder like a sack of potatoes?!? She thrashed more violently, but firm hands held her in place. She felt something wrap around her wrists and tighten.  
“Vee got a feisty one, ya Hans?” The man holding her said in a thick German accent.  
“Haha ya! I vike dem zat way. Makes da feeding more fun.”  
Feeding?!?  
The woman heard a van door open and felt herself being laid in the trunk. Unable to see, she focused on her other senses. She felt the floor: rubber. The smell of stale beer, long since used bleach, and something slightly sweet and metallic emanated from the vehicle. A rumble emanated from the engine as the van began moving.  
She didn’t see the gas station attendant give a friendly smile and wave as she was hauled away.  
She was in the van for an unknown amount of time. She tried to keep track of the turns. Left. Left. Right. A long time passed in silence and sleep began to nip at the edges of her consciousness. Feeling herself slip into the dark abyss of sleep, she panicked, fearing for her future. Fighting the drowsiness that pulled her down, she flexed her fingers and stretched her legs. She noted the turns with renewed vigor and estimated the distance between each. As the journey continued, the turns became more complex. She got the feeling that they were going in circles just to confused her. She seethed with anger. It worked. She lost track of their path and which direction they were headed. Slowly, anger gave way to exhaustion, and sleep crept up upon her.  
Awaking with a start to sturdy hands at her sides, she was ripped from her sleep. Momentarily shocked, she remembered what had happened the night before. A longing flashed on her covered face; she never thought she would miss her broken futon and dingy room. She could tell that it was early morning as faint rays of sun peeked through the bag that covered her face. Longing turned to hatred as she squirmed with all her might. The hands left her in an instant. Her stomach climbed up her throat as she dropped to the ground. Her arms, still tied behind her back, gave a painful thrum of pins and needles as they collided with the hard ground. Awkwardly rolling to her knees, then standing, she began to move away from her captors. Or, at least, where she figured her captors were.  
“Vere are you going, little lamb?” one man asked sarcastically.  
She heard a pair of chuckles and backed away from them.  
“Zee voods are no place for a lamb. Dere are hungry creatures,” joked the other man in reply. She assumed he was Hans, based on his lower, more authoritative voice.  
“Vike bats,” the man chortled.  
“Alright, enough games,” commanded Hans.  
She only heard the soft swish of grass before feeling a hand graze her back, halting her movement. The voices had been at least a few yards away a moment ago, causing her to jump in surprise when Hans’ voice was in her ear.  
“Forward, little one,” he purred in a sickly sweet voice as he put pressure on her lower back.  
She took a singular, tentative step forward.  
“Hold on,” he said.  
Early morning light streamed in as the cloth was removed. The woman blinked back tears as she was blinded by the sudden change in light. The blurry form of a log cabin about ten yards away was visible, framed by massive pines on all sides. She felt the pressure once more.  
Being led into the cabin, she looked around tentatively. There were no windows, but the faint light of a dying fire in the hearth illuminated the room. All around were oddities. A long-neglected kitchenette occupied one corner. Unwashed dishes sat in the sink as cockroaches flitted across the counter. In the opposite corner of the room sat a singular, perfectly made bed. It seemed very out of place with its dull red, woolen blanket pooling on the floor all around it. Even more out of place considering it was not big enough to house the two, fully grown men who hauled her here. Her gaze lingered for a moment on the bed, then shifted around the room. Bits of cloth and rope were strewn about. Two, tapered, hexagonal boxes stood next to the wall. The wooden floors creaked as the three walked along.  
“Stop. Now, stay put, little lamb,” Hans said, his dark eyes crinkling with delight. The woman stared at him for a long moment, watching as his dark hair contrasted his perfectly pale skin. Her anger simmered inside of her as she saw the smiles of her captors. They walked over to the bed, leaving the woman in the middle of the room. She tested her restraints. A zip tie bound her wrists, but that was all. Hope flickered inside of her.  
She took two steps backward as the men positioned themselves at each end of the bed. She took six steps backward as they put their hands under the bed frame. She fiddled with the doorknob as the men slid the bed away from the wall.  
Her anger boiled as her bound hands ineffectually tried to allow her escape. She clawed desperately as she heard a low laugh echo throughout the room. One instant, the men were at the bed. The next, they were at her side.  
“Little lamb,” a low voice growled in her ear, ”I told you to stay put.”  
Hans pressed his hand onto her lower back once more, but now with more force. She felt a slight tinge of pain as his nails dug in and he whispered, “We’ll have to punish you for that.”


	2. Welcome Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The German accents get worse.

The woman watched in horror as he obtained something from a trench coat pocket and flicked it open; A knife glinted in the firelight. She began to shake her head, pushing back futilely against the firm hands that held her. Hans nodded. The woman gave a yelp as she was pushed, stomach to the wall. Silent tears fell from her eyes as Hans stepped up behind her, knife in hand. The second man, Victor, held her in place firmly, leaving her no room to squirm. Her breathing quickened. The tears rolled down her face. Her body tensed for impact. Just when she thought the knife would plunge into her back, a stinging line arched across her thighs. The elastic fabric of her leggings sprung apart, allowing the cool air to caress her bare thigh. She cried out and tried to kick her legs, but she was just met with another stinging slash. With ease, she was flipped, her back now to the wall, still held tight.   
“You yelp and cry out much, little lamb, but it is only zee beginning. Vee might have to--” Hans stopped, noticing her tears. He gave a nod to Victor, who had been watching with delight as their captive yelped and cried while she squirmed beneath him. In response to the nod, his hands left her completely and he took a step backward. The woman’s moment of respite was short lived as Hans slid forward, still brandishing the knife.   
He flashed a sick smile as he ran a hand along her cheek. The woman turned away.  
“I don’t want creeps like you wiping away my tears,” she spat, taking a step closer to the door.   
Hans gracefully moved to block her path. He leaned in, easily towering over her in one quick motion.   
“Oh, you do not understand dee situation you are in if you think you can resist me. Your hands are bound. Your hands are mine. You,” he said, sliding a hand up her skirt, “are mine.”   
The woman froze.   
“And I vill do vatever I vant to you venever I vant.” There was no choice of opposition. Hans moved his hand so that he was holding her by the hip. The woman’s breath hitched and she gave a shiver as the cold, flat side of the knife was pressed against her womanhood.   
“You see? You cannot stop me.” He chuckled, flipping the knife so the cold would once more make her squirm. “Do you squirm because it is cold or because your body is secretly begging for something to touch it?”   
The woman’s shock boiled into anger at the notion. “My body could never desire a freak like you.”  
Hans narrowed his eyes slowly. Withdrawing the knife, he flicked it closed and stowed it in his pocket.   
“Bring her to zee dungeon, Victor.” He added before turning away, “And, little lamb, you must address me as your master.”  
“I refuse.”  
He chuckled. “Vell, you vill address me as master by dee end of dee night. I guarantee it.”  
The woman just shook her head in disbelief as Victor gently took her by the arm. Hans opened the door and slid around the side of the doorframe, keeping to the shadows.   
Victor and the woman looked at each other.   
“So, are you the nicer one?” the woman asked.  
Victor chuckled. “I am cruel in ozer vays, lamb. I do not need to be cruel to you right now. Hans vishes to have zat pleasure. Vee trade off, you see. Every time vee add a new animal to our menagerie, vee take turns as to who gets to break zem. It is quite fun. You’ll see.”  
A cold pool of dread settled in her stomach. It did not sound fun at all.   
Victor lead her across the room to the wall. With the bed slid away, a metal trap door shone in the fading firelight. Victor knelt down and opened the hatch. The woman gulped as a ladder descended into the darkness below.   
“Don’t tell Hans, but I’m going to cut dee zip tie around your wrists. You vill go down zee ladder vithout my help. Understand?”  
The woman just nodded. She stood still as the knife slid between her wrists and gave a sigh of relief as the restraint was cut. Hesitating at the edge, she peered down at the ladder, then up at Victor. If I’m going to fight, now is the time.  
She flexed her fingers and rotated her wrists. She brought her arms up in a stretch. As she swung them down, she made a swipe for Victor’s knife.   
“Hey!” Victor shouted, pulling the knife away faster than the blink of an eye. The woman stood deathly still, eyes burning with malice at Victor.   
“I told you,” Victor started, sliding a hand around the woman’s neck, “to go down zee ladder. You disobeyed. If you keep zis up, I von’t hold Hans back at all tonight. He vill not be gentle.”  
She had difficulty swallowing as the panic rose within her. The anger that had been boiling now dissolved into a paralyzing fear. Victor gave a wicked smile when he saw.   
“Zee look in your eyes is lovely. Now be a good lamb and go down zee ladder vike you vere supposed to.” He released her neck and pointed to the ladder. The woman obeyed, quaking as she kneeled and descended the rugs into the darkness below.


	3. The Climax

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Get ready for some hardcore smut!

The dungeon had cold, stone floors. Victor flicked a match, bathing the room in a red glow as he lit the torches on the wall. The room was rectangular, with the entrance being in one corner. In the center of the room, stood a black, metal table. A couple chairs and benches sat around it. Farther across the room, against one of the shorter walls, was an X. It was wooden and her eyes were drawn to little metal rings glinting in the light. On one of the longer walls, was a large set of metal cabinets that matched the table. The woman saw that the wall opposite the one lined with cabinets actually shifted. She looked closer; it was dark and appeared to be made of fabric. A dark bar ran across the room, just above the fabric. Is that...a curtain? She was filled with a horrible curiosity. I wonder what is behind it. Why would they have a curtain here?   
“Let me show you around.”  
Her thoughts slipped from her mind as Victor wrapped a strong hand around her wrist and lead her with a half grin. She tried to tug away, but he paid her no mind. Escorting her to a chair next to the table, he motioned for her to sit down. He turned to the set of metal cabinets.   
“Lamb. Lamb. Lamb. Oh, for a little lamb,” he muttered as he opened multiple cabinets, pulling things out, shifting others around, and muttering all the while. With Victor’s back turned, the woman eyed the trap door hungrily.  
With a clang, Hans had closed the trapdoor and began descending the ladder. The sudden noise sent a visceral rush of panic through her, as if a hand were around her neck once more. She rose to her feet in panic.  
“Vere are you going to run, little lamb? Dee only exit is up here,” Hans taunted when he saw her.   
Victor walked up to Hans and began whispering to him. He held out something.  
Hans responded, “Perfect.”  
The woman staggered back. She moved away from the entrance and away from the curtain. She stood in a corner between the X and the cabinets. Hans gave a low chuckle.  
“You cannot run. You cannot hide. You are mine. Yes, little lamb. All mine.” He slowly sauntered over until he stood just in front of the woman. “Vat do you have to say to that?”  
The woman sat down, closed her eyes, and shook her head.  
“You vill answer ‘Yes master’ venever I speak to you. Do you understand?”  
The woman’s eyes remained closed as she nodded.  
“I didn’t hear you.”  
The silence hung in the air.  
Hans reached down and grabbed each of the woman’s wrists.  
“I said,” repeated Hans, pulling the woman to her feet and slamming her into a wall, “I didn’t hear you.”   
The woman shook her head.   
“Fine. Maybe vee vill just have to varm you up first.”  
He dragged the woman over to the table, throwing her into a chair. Victor handed him some items. Hans held them behind his back.  
“Hold out your hands,” he demanded.   
“Never. I will never take orders from you. I will never be your slave. I will never be yours. I will never love a creep like you,” shouted the woman.   
Hans leaned in slowly.   
“Your mouth is dirty. Vee’ll need to fix that.”  
He placed his thumb and forefinger on both sides of her jaw, forcing it open. She tried to resist, but couldn’t force the ball out of her mouth as the straps on each side tightened. Next, he snatched one wrist. A black and white leather cuff wrapped around it snuggly. With a click, Hans closed the small lock. The finality of the sound felt magnified, and the woman held her other wrist to chest. Easily wrestling that wrist free, he slid on and clicked the lock of the matching cuff as well.   
“Dese are perfect for zee little lamb,” Hans said, running his fingers along the white leather. “And,” he said, sliding a finger into each metal ring embedded in the cuff, “I have total control.”   
With a wicked grin, he picked the woman up and set her on the table. He held her wrists above her head as he laid her down. With one hand controlling her wrists, he slowly climbed onto the table and straddled her, kneeling. His slim, yet muscular body weighed more than enough to keep the woman under him completely pinned.  
“You von’t vike this,” Hans said with pure glee in his voice.   
He reached for her blouse. The woman shook her head. He ignored her muffled shrieks. Sticking two fingers down the front, he pulled until the top button popped off. He slid his fingers down. The second popped off. He slid his fingers down. The third popped off. He repeated this slowly until he reached her navel.   
He moved his hand all the way around her hips, slowly untucking the blouse. He looked down at his prey, her open blouse spilling out all around her, revealing a thick line of flesh down the center of her chest and stomach. He gave a half-growl half-moan of hunger as he withdrew the knife from his pocket once more.   
The woman closed her eyes as he traced the design of the blouse with the knife. It didn’t hurt, but instead she just felt a pressure and a slight sting. Down one side. Up the other. He ran the knife along where the buttons had been, in the shallow area between her breasts. Maneuvering the blouse from her body, he traced the curves of her body. He reached up, slipping the blade between the bra strap and her shoulder. It gave a hearty snap. He did the same for the other side. He now used more pressure on her bare body, the lines growing darker as pinpricks of blood rose forth. The woman’s breathing was heavier, and she shifted away from the blade. She felt the cold metal roam around her upper half, although only outlining her breasts, never running across them. The knife slid down one shoulder, to her stomach, then down the curve of her hip, and--it stopped. He pressed, gently testing the give of her skirt. With a downward slash, the woman’s skirt ripped. The fabric slid off the table, now just a jagged rectangle.   
She laid there with nothing but her panties and a pair of leather cuffs on. Hans reached up and clicked the straps loose on the ball gag. He set it on the table.   
“Vee vant to hear you for dis next part,” he whispered in her ear.  
With the weight of him still straddling her and the whispers, her body gave an involuntary mixture between a groan and a sigh. Hans gave a small laugh.   
“I bet dere are more vhere zat came from.”  
His hand slid down past her shoulders, past her breasts, and past her waist. Toying with the waistband, he felt her breathing deepen in anticipation. Slipping one hand under the waistband, he felt her fleece. Her back reflexively arched, pulling him closer. He ran his fingers through her fleece a few times, then gave a hard tug. With a sound of painful exclamation, she tried to squirm away. Hans pulled gently, just enough to halt her movement. His hand snaked its way back up to her waist, holding her there while he began to get up. Removing his legs from both sides of the woman, he slid off of the table. She laid for a moment, trying to control her gentle panting. Hans scooped her up in his arms. Carrying her across the room, he laid her against the wooden X. The woman, dazed, did not register the snapping of rings together until she tried to pull away from the wooden frame. The clinking of metal echoed off the walls as she pulled against the restraints.   
“I promised I vould punish you, little lamb.” Hans pulled two things out of a cabinet. One, a mask, slipped over her eyes, enveloping her in night. The other, well…  
“Ahh!” yelped the woman as the stinging leather ribbons of the flogger made impact.   
Hans was slow and methodical. He started with the thighs, working first lightly, reveling in her squeals and yelps. He then slowly began increasing the speed and pressure until the woman was trembling and begging.  
“Please. Stop.” Her O’s became long and drawn out in a low moan. “Please,” she begged.  
“Vat vill you address me as?” Hans asked, completely calm.  
“Never.”  
Hans landed a particularly brutal lash upon her breasts. She pulled against the restraints wildly as he flogged her. She gave a choked cry as the blindfold intensified the pain by blocking her other senses. Every leather strip snapped on her body, sending waves of agony through her. The flogging seemed to last forever, each hit pelting her sore body. After her captor began to slow and eventually stop, she slumped against the frame. Every inch of her body radiated pain and heat. She was allowed to rest for a time, feeling strangely lonely without Hans’ hands or flogger.   
The woman’s body tensed once more when she felt something graze her arm. Her heart raced for fear of another flogging, but the next touch was soft and gentle. It tickled slightly as it teasingly moved along her sides, one at a time. The soft feather was heaven on her sore body. It raised goosebumps on her arms as it dragged along them. She stifled a giggle as if tickled the backs of her knees. She tried to suppress a moan as it gently caressed between her thighs and slid up to trace her breasts. Her back arched and her breathing sounded as if she was going to sneeze as the feather slowly went around her nipples. Slowly, tracing circles around and around. After arousing her, Hans gave her one more hard smack with the flogger, making sure some strands snapped between her thighs. She shrieked the loudest yet as she bent forward in pain.  
“Good job, little lamb. You have taken your punishment vell. Now it is time for some fun.” She could practically hear the glee in his voice.  
Hans lifted her beaten body gingerly, and carried her back to the table. Taking some rope out of a cupboard, he deftly tied one of her wrists to one leg of the table. He did the same to the other, while leaving a little extra rope for her to be able to move around. Her back to the cold steel, the burning pain slowly receded.   
As he straddled her once more, he moved further down, allowing himself full access to her sex. The woman now felt two pairs of hands on her. One was running along her collarbone, sending shivers up her spine, while the other ran the length of her sides, tracing the sensitive lines. Slowly but surely, the hand once again ventured below the waistband. He pet her fleece, massaging the mound. A redness inched from her cheeks to her neck. His hand slowly crept further under her. He started with wide and slow, tantalizingly slow, circles. The woman tried to shift her hips, but he held her in place. The circles grew tighter, but still remained slow. All the woman could do was try to control her quivering and hold back her moans. The last shred of pride told her that she would not succumb to the bodily pleasures which slowly engulfed her mind.   
The hands on her collarbone left, but were immediately replaced by a kissing on her neck. Gentle lips grazed and teased as a hot breath caressed her. A slow, gentle, suckling kiss wandered around her neck, adding to her arousal.   
The movement shifted from circles into a back and forth wave-like motion. This made her realize she was practically dripping. She arched her back and pulled on the ropes while her body betrayed her, moaning. Disgust overwhelmed her, hearing her own voice in such a state, as her body craved the sensation with a burning passion. She tried to pull her sweaty, lustful body away from the source of pleasure, but her body gave in. Leaning into him, she could not contain her moans any longer. The kisses on her neck grew more passionate, adding gentle licks and nips.   
As his hand was doing quick, hard flicks of the wrist, Hans whispered into her ear, “Vat vill you address me as?”   
He felt her tremble beneath him. Her body was reacting exactly as he wanted, writhing and panting. It was music to his ears as she moaned sweet cries for what she desperately needed.   
“Master!” the woman cried out in a breathy tone, heavy with lust. The word tumbled out amid moans, reverberating off the walls. Her mind did not process her words, only relishing in the sweet sensations they caused.   
Hans gave a grin as he slipped a finger into her and commanded, “Cum for me, little lamb.”  
Her body overflowed with pleasure, reverberating each time his finger slid out and slammed back in. She could not hold back her moans, echoing all throughout the room. The heel of his hand ground into her as he finger was buried deep with each thrust. His body pressed against hers as her back arched, causing her to pull with all of her might on the restraints. Through her tsunami of pleasure, the sharp knife of pain cut through. The kissing and sucking on her neck had grown more violent and painful. The pain mixed with the pleasure, and her vision grew hazy. His finger slowed it’s assault until it was caressing her gently.  
Slowly, the woman’s moaning stopped and her body relaxed. Her vision was blurred and the room was slowly spinning. She laid on the table for a while, coming down from an intense high. When she opened her eyes, Hans’ smiling face was peering down at her.   
“You’ve been a good little lamb,” he said, tracing the thin lines on her body once more, the slight sting bringing her back to her senses.   
He picked her up once more and carried her, bridal style, over to the curtain. Pulling it aside with a flourish, he revealed the other half of the room; Five pairs of hopeless eyes peered up at the woman from behind bars. Each wore the same, dull expression of fear and complacency. A cage lined the walls of the room, creating a C shape, and in the middle of the C was a stockade. She woman struggled weakly in Hans’ arms. In response, he held her tightly to his chest and cooed to her softly. He pulled out a key from one of his many pockets and unlocked the door to the cage. He carried the woman in, setting her into one of the cots that lined the walls.   
“Sleep, little lamb. I vill see you later. Get along wis zee other stock.”  
Lying naked in a strange bed, the woman was overcome with shame. How could I have said such things? Oh goodness. This is terrible. Her eyes peered around the cage, slowly meeting each of her new companions’.   
“Did you hear anything?”  
As soon as they heard the trapdoor slam, a woman with red hair answered, “We aren’t supposed to talk.”  
A younger girl with short brown hair sneered,”We might not talk much, but we sure heard a whole lot.”   
The woman blushed.   
The girl got up and walked around, allowing the woman to notice something quite peculiar.   
“Is...Is that a tail?” the woman asked, mildly horrified.   
“You will get one soon,” replied the girl matter of factly. “It’ll correspond with your animal. See? I’m a kitten,” she said, petting the end of the fluffy cat tail in her hands,   
“How do they stay--”  
“You’ll find out.”   
The woman noticed that each of her companions had a tail sticking out from their waistbands.   
She pointed to each woman sitting around the cage, guessing,”Fox, doe, dog, kitten, and raccoon?”  
“Congrats. Five out of five correct. Perfect score,” the raccoon woman grumbled from the corner.   
“And, from what we’ve heard, you are a lamb.” the darker skinned doe offered.  
“Yes,” the woman replied reluctantly.  
The woman looked around at these people and grew afraid. What if I become just like them? Many of the others wore bruises, welts, and scars. The cold pool of dread and fear settled in her stomach once more. She reached up and rubbed her sore neck. As her fingers returned bloody, she gasped.   
“Oh. That’s normal. I promise you’ll get used to it,” informed the dog.  
“They won’t take enough to kill you. Then they’d have to go find a new lamb,” said the fox, sneering.  
The woman looked at each person in the room and had I moment of pure confusion. What if this is all just some terrible dream? A terrible, erotic nightmare beyond any measure. It must be a dream. I’m just exhausted and having a bad dream. Maybe if I go to bed, then I’ll wake up in the real world.   
“Well, okay,” the woman started, completely dumbfounded at their complacency, “I’m very tired... so I’m going to go to bed.” She rolled over on her cot, wrapping herself in the thin blanket that covered it. Sleep slowly swept in.


	4. Snap

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Less smut, but more naked ladies.

When she awoke the next morning, her bones were filled with rage. This was not some dream. Her body was sore and bruises began blooming all over her body.   
“Do we get breakfast around here?” the woman asked, staring at the ceiling and hoping her cage-mates were awake.  
“Yes. Just before the masters leave for the day,” said the fox as she walked around, her tail swinging from side to side.  
The woman almost choked, “You actually call them that?”  
The fox woman motioned to her flawless skin, unbroken and unbruised.   
“You are rewarded for following the rules.”  
The woman grew disgusted. I am not property. I am owned by myself and no one else. I will get out of here if it is the last thing I do. Curse this wretched place. Her hateful thoughts grew until they were interrupted by the sound of a slamming trap door. The woman decided to remain staring at the ceiling.   
“Guten Morgen,” called Hans cheerily as he swept the curtain aside.  
The woman heard the creak of metal hinges and the grind of ceramic on stone. She ignored as the others walked over to the noise. She ignored the pain in her stomach as she heard the sounds of eating. She ignored Hans when he called for her.  
“Little lamb. Come get your breakfast.”   
The woman stared at the ceiling, mustering the most apathetic face she could.   
Hans sighed, “Vat vill you address me as?”  
The woman recalled each wound she received, causing her anger to boil once more. She rolled over on the cot, now facing the wall.  
“You admitted it last night and you vill say it again. You are trying to be defiant, but I know it vill not last long. I have an extra special punishment tonight for you, little lamb. You vill look quite nice vit a lamb’s tail peeking out of those panties.”  
With that, Hans climed back up the ladder and closed the hatch. Fear gripped her. Another punishment? I’m not sure I’ll be able to handle it. She ran her hands along her tender body. Her panic began to rise. I don’t want pain. I don’t want twisted pleasure. I don’t want to be here. I don’t want. I don’t want. Her mind spiraled down and down until she was quaking in bed.   
“What’s your problem?” the kitten girl asked as she sat on the end of the cot. There was only a slight edge to her voice, as if she was trying to be sincere.   
The woman shook her head.  
“Here, at least eat something before you starve to death,” the girl joked, holding a bowl in her hands.   
The woman sat up and accepted the bowl. The white mush was tasteless and made her want to gag, but she forced it down into her demanding stomach. While her mouth protested, her stomach screamed for more. After downing the bowl quickly, she looked to the girl for more.   
“Sorry.” The girl looked at her sadly.   
“While I can’t help you that way,” the girl started, “I could give you some tips for when you get your tail, because--”  
“No. I’m not getting a tail,” the woman proclaimed.   
The girl gently patted the woman on the shoulder. “Whatever you say,” she mocked.  
“I’m not getting a tail,” the woman repeated.   
The girl rolled her eyes, saying, “Yea you are. Look, you are gonna want to relax yourself when the time comes, because otherwise--”  
“I’m not getting a tail,” shouted the woman. Her panic levels were rising once more. I don’t want to be degraded into some sort of animal. I don’t want to see Hans or Victor. I don’t want to see anyone. I don't want to be here. I don’t want...I don’t want…  
The woman stood, her hands shaking. The fear of another punishment. The anger at humiliation. The fear of blood. The anger at pain. I don’t want. I don’t want. I don’t want.  
Her body screamed in protest, each muscle straining, as she picked up her cot. All of the others scattered away as she threw it at the bars, yelling a vicious battle cry. The cot snapped into two pieces as the legs snapped off. The thin blanket flew to the floor in a flurry of motion. The woman was panting with exertion and screeching at the top of her lungs.   
“I. Don’t. Want.” she seethed.   
She felt hands pulling her down, dragging her down, holding her down, as the animals pounced on her. For fear of being restrained once more, she jerked wildly. The racoon tried to hold the woman’s arms. The fox lunged for the woman’s legs. The woman rolled away, thrashing violently as she dodged the hands.   
The girl rushed forward, trying to pin the woman. Brushing her aside, the woman popped up quickly, her eyes fixed upon a torch on the wall. Snatching the object of her gaze, she held it in front of her like a weapon. The girl backed away. She bumped into the crushed metal cot. Leaning down, she picked up one of the legs and held it at the ready.   
“I don’t want to fight you,” the girl pleaded. Fear glinted in the girl’s eyes, shining in the firelight for all to see. The other women shrank to the edges of the cage.   
“Fine,” said the woman, dropping the torch.   
Fwoosh.   
Loud shrieks echoed as the bed caught fire. Acrid smoke billowed across the room.   
The woman smiled. Death is better than any life lived here.  
The girl dipped and ducked between the franfic animals, diving for the cage door. Smashing the her makeshift weapon on the floor, she flattened it. As the woman began throwing the burning cots against the cage bars, the girl frantically stabbed the metal into the keyhole. She ineffectually tried to pick the lock while the fire grew across the room. The fire consumed all that was within its reach. The room became sweltering and the air grew hazy. The cots had been thrown against the bars, heating and blackening the bars as the fire consumed each cot, leaving only scorched metal skeletons behind.  
The woman, eyes wild with fear, grasped the metal frame of a cot and started wildly bashing the blackened bars of the cage. The smoke grew blacker and thicker as the woman worked. With a loud screech, one of the cage bars snapped. The woman worked with renewed vigor as the smoke grew and she began to feel light headed. Once the others saw her plan, they joined in, smashing the bars with all of their might. Their work paid off as another bar screeched, snapping. And another.   
One by one, each fluffy tail bolted out of the cage. The fox was first as she sprinted for the ladder. Her bright red tail disappeared into the smoke above. The onlookers below could hear the trap door squeal open as the fox violently coughed and retched. The woman ascended the ladder shortly after the fox, her heart still beating furiously with fear. Her eyes burned and her lungs refused the smoke. As she neared the top, she was struck with a flailing leg.   
The fox squirmed and squealed as her hips were stuck in the gap between the floor and trapdoor. Wood creaked as the bed frame was forced apart by the trapdoor. The woman grabbed a leg. With a grunt, she pushed. The fox popped through, making the trap door shut with a deafening slam. The woman’s panic rose as smoke filled area. Her hands scrambled for the trap door as tears made clean lines in the soot on her face. She heard a rumble above her. Muscles strained as she pushed with all her strength on the trap door that wouldn’t budge. She heard another rumble and the trap door flew open. Smoke and freedom billowed into the cabin as the woman climbed out. The fox lay panting on the floor, her hands still wrapped around the bedpost, allowing them to escape.  
Looking around the room, she was filled with hatred. The woman stalked over to the fireplace. Grabbing one of the pokers beside it, she rifled through the fire, searching for hot embers. Scooping up the embers with the coal shovel, she deposited it onto the thick, woolen blanket. The dry fibers instantly caught, creating a spout of flame that licked the ceiling.   
The woman felt the heat on her bare skin and looked around. Everyone else was gone and the door was open. She numbly toddled over to the door. She looked back at the pillar of flame before stepping into the cool evening.


	5. Epilogue

The radio crackled, “Breaking news! Five kidnapped women have been rescued by local police. Their captors are unknown, but police are sending out a search party. Citizens, please report any suspicious activity to the police station. More information will be released as the investigation continues. Now, onto the weather…”


End file.
